


Lambs to the Slaughter

by Active_Imagination



Category: Hannibal - Fandom, The Following
Genre: Hannibal finale, In His Head and His Heart, Ryan is so messed up, With The Following Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Active_Imagination/pseuds/Active_Imagination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This tells the story of a killer (Joe Carroll), the man who put him behind bars (Ryan Hardy), and a third man (Tyson Hernandez). It is the classic tale of good versus evil, with the post-modern twist that those concepts are never that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lambs to the Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> Joe and Ryan remind me so much of Hannibal and Will. I wanted to give their love story a more fitting ending. So I took the Hannibal story and applied it to them. No copyright infringement was intended. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, but I am rather anxious about sharing this, so please let me know what you think but try to be gentle. I really wish The Following had the fandom that Hannibal has. And I wish networks would stop cancelling shows before they've finished telling their story.

It felt like a trap, but there was nothing Ryan could do.

“I don't like this, Ty. It's too risky.” Well, nothing he could do apart from complain to his partner.

“You wouldn't think it was too risky if you were coming with me.” He knew Ryan too well, and that comment stopped Ryan in his tracks. There was nothing he could say that would change his partner's mind, so Ryan stayed silent whilst a thousand thoughts raced through his. He knew he couldn't ask Tyson not to do his job, but it didn't feel right for them not to be doing it together. “I'm gonna miss you, man.” Tyson was the one to break the silence, pulling Ryan into a bear hug.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ryan dismissed, not returning the hug, scared he'd hold on too tight, but he had to say something. “Knock 'em dead, baby.”

“You too.” Tyson was reluctant to let go, worried for his partner. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

“You're about to try and infiltrate a crime syndicate.” Ryan smirked, making Tyson laugh.

“Okay, so maybe I'm a bad example.”

“Bad? Nah. You're the best, Ty.” 

“You too Ryan.” It was something Ryan easily forgot, especially when his partner wasn't there to remind him.

***

Ryan was dreaming when the phone rang. Surrounded by case files of mutilated bodies, he had organized them by what he saw, until he fell asleep on the piles. The cases blurred as he slept, only to be pushed to the back of his mind by the persistent ringing of his landline. 

“H'llo” Ryan grunted after he had stumbled over to the phone, smashing the keys to answer it.

“You sound like Hell. Did I wake you?” It took Ryan several moments to place the voice, but there were only a handful of people who genuinely cared at him, and this didn't sound like his sister.

“Ty? What?..” Questions clogged Ryan's throat, rendering him mute.

“Yeah, it's me buddy. Still alive. Mouth of the Devil, man, but I'm thriving.” There was a heavy silence. “Miss you, man.”

“Me too.” Ryan sighed, the words so hard to admit, even to his best friend. “But I'm keeping busy.”

“That's what I'm worried about.” Tyson replied, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them, but it didn't matter. Ryan didn't understand. “I dunno, just... maybe you should get another partner, to watch your back while I'm gone.” The words felt like a punch to the stomach, but Ryan recovered well.

“Come on, baby. You know you're irreplaceable.” Ryan made sure his tone was light, even though it wasn't really a joke. 

“So are you, Ryan.” Tyson's voice was thick with emotion, trying to emphasize to Ryan just how important he was, to him at least. But Ryan never felt it. Ryan would always prioritize the lives of others over his own. “You gotta learn to take care of yourself, now that I'm not...” Tyson trailed off. The call was more painful than he imagined. He felt like Lot's wife, like he could turn into salt at any moment, but he didn't want to leave Ryan behind, all alone.

“You're not coming back from this, are you?” Ryan suddenly realized, his voice angry to mask fear and pain. 

“This could be big, Ryan. If I stick with this, we could bring the whole organization down. But I'll come home if you want me to. Just say the word.” Tyson wanted Ryan to say the word. He would drop everything just to be with his partner, but Ryan would never see how that sacrifice could be worth it. 

“I can't ask you to do that. Taking down the bad guys, that's the most important thing. You'd never forgive me if I took that opportunity away from you.” Ryan insisted, but Tyson knew he could. He didn't press the matter though, because it was Ryan who wouldn't have been able to forgive himself. “Just be careful, okay. I just need you to be okay. You gotta promise me.” Ryan was starting to get hysterical, paranoid that something horrible would happen to his partner.

“I promise, buddy.” Tyson was starting to cry, wanting to comfort Ryan but being so far away. “But you've got to promise me you'll take care of yourself too. Don't go chasing danger on no hours sleep. You gotta remember to eat when you're on a case. You've got to put your own safety first, Ryan. Please.”

“Goodnight, Tyson.” Ryan hung up, unable to promise anything and lousy with goodbyes. He should have gone to bed, but instead, he returned to the case files, the pictures of blood corpses scattered on the floor. He sat down and began to reorganize them, again.

***

Ryan could hear the beeping of machines, and that told him he was alive. He wasn't expecting that. He also wasn't expecting to hear a familiar voice.

“Ryan, baby, come on. Wake up. You gotta wake up.” It was Tyson's voice, and if Ryan was a betting man, he'd wager that the hand holding his belonged to Tyson too. It was a firm grip, one that he could hold on to and let it pull him back to reality. That was the theory. Ryan found it much harder to put into practice.

Ryan kept fading in and out of consciousness, but Tyson stayed by his side and that's what kept him fighting. It was days before he could finally open his eyes, and Tyson was right there.

“The girl?” Ryan managed to ask.

“Sarah Fuller.” Tyson smiles, wryly. He should have known Ryan would be more concerned about the girl. “She's okay. You saved her life. She's going to be okay.” Ryan sank back into his hospital bed, letting himself feel relieved for just a few seconds before grief took over.

“It was him, Ty. You would have seen it, but...” Ryan was torturing himself, as if a knife to the heart wasn't punishment enough.

“Hey, you did see it. You stopped him. That bastard will be rotting in jail for a long time because of you. You're a hero, man.”

“I'm a jerk, and I screwed up your undercover sting.” Ryan was grateful for Tyson's presence, he really was, but the work always came first. 

“Nah. They know my brother got hurt. They've given me some space. I reckon I'll be able to get back in without too much trouble.” Tyson hesitated, before adding, “Or let someone else take over.” 

“That would set back months of work.” Ryan dismissed the idea, ignoring Tyson's disappointment, or perhaps he was oblivious to it. “You could do some real good, Ty. You have to. For me.” It's was Ryan Hardy psych 101. He viewed himself a failure, and his partner a success. And as partners, a win was a win for both of them, and Ryan needed a win now, even if it meant losing Tyson.

“Okay.” Tyson would give Ryan what he wanted, what he needed. He just hoped it would be enough. “It's not okay though, is it?”

“I should have known it was him.” Ryan growled through gritted teeth. “Who else would listen to my theories... but the killer?”

“A friend.”

“Yeah. I thought... I hoped...” Ryan kept his feelings close to his chest, but Tyson could read them pretty well, and they ran deep, deeper than he could admit, deeper than he could voice. “But I was wrong. And those girls died.”

“You saved Sarah's life, Ryan. You are not cursed. You are allowed to let people in. Ryan. Ryan?” But it was too late. Ryan had locked Tyson out, convinced it was safer for everybody if he stayed alone. Tyson had spent twenty years trying to knock down the walls Ryan had put up, trying to bring some sunshine into his world, and Joe Carroll had ruined everything.

When Tyson said goodbye, Ryan was too lost inside his own head to hear it.

***

With Joe Carroll behind bars, his partner in witness protection, and a pacemaker keeping him alive, Ryan Hardy only had one more person to push away before he drank himself into oblivion. He loved Claire Matthews more than he would have ever thought possible, but they had both loved Joe and it was a tangled mess. He wasn't going to drag her down with him, and so he cut the ties.

He made sure there would be nobody to mourn him when he finally drank himself to death, drowning in guilt and self-torture. That release never came, not before he was called back to duty again.

***

Joe Carroll was killing again. It was Ryan's job to stop him, made all the more complicated by Joe professing that the killings were for Ryan. 

Ryan tried to deny it, but with every death he was that much closer to finding his place in the world. He got a new partner, (Mike wasn't taking no for an answer, he was so much like Tyson), he got given a gun again, he got back some control in his life. Others died, and Ryan thrived, fueled by survivor's guilt. 

Ryan tried so hard not to take life, but to save it. However, there were times when grief or fear would take over and he would kill without blinking. He was capable of it, but always felt remorse afterward. Joe was trying to teach him not to feel such regret. 

Since death and life were so intimate between Ryan and Joe, Joe was surprised when Ryan spared him his life. If he had killed Joe, Ryan would have become the killer Joe wanted him to be. They would have ascended together. Instead, they were both squandered. Joe, to a life behind bars, and Ryan, back to a muted life in the society of the world. 

***

There were still bad guys to fight, and it stayed in the back of Ryan's mind that he was worse than all of them because he understood. He could be objective and catch them. It was horrible, but nothing touched him because he had isolated himself so much. Ryan had distanced himself from people, away from emotion. All he had was his work.

Until a new nemesis appeared in the form of dead bodies and human trafficking, drug wars and counterfeit cash. A kingpin, wanted by so many agencies, but Ryan Hardy had managed to get closer than all the organizations combined. Close, but not close enough. The kingpin managed to stay one step ahead of Ryan, despite leaving a trail of corpses.

It was inevitable that Ryan would track him down, his evil match, his soulmate, just like Joe claimed to be. Ryan was bound to catch up with this person who have given him a renewed purpose, an opposite and equal within the world, a counterbalance. When Ryan finally saw this person, saw that it was his old partner: Hector Tyson.

Ryan felt like he should have died from a broken heart in the instant he saw Tyson's face. If not, the bullets and the beating Tyson bestowed onto his old friend should have done the job. It didn't. Ryan was left for dead, but he didn't die. He lived with the knowledge that the best friend he had ever had was now a monster. And it was his job to stop him, but he couldn't do it alone.

***

With Tyson the new enemy, Ryan found himself crawling back to Joe Carroll for some stability, and insight. If Ryan was being completely honest with himself, which is something he never he was, he needed Joe. He needed Joe to do what Ryan couldn't, or perhaps he could and that's what scared Ryan so much. 

“You know what you have to do, Ryan. It is, after all, what you do best.”

“I am not a killer.” Ryan denied vehemently, even as he flashed back to the dozen times he had taken a life. It brought tears to his eyes, eyes that Joe were staring into, as if he saw the answers of the universe in there.

“Oh yes, you are, Ryan. And there is so much beauty in it. I wish you could see that, and not be ashamed.”

“I kill to protect people.”

“So you keep saying, but we both know it's your nature. The Angel of Death, who is convinced he's a monster, just because he isn't like mortal men. You see that much, don't you?” All Ryan saw was that he was a monster, and that Tyson turning into a monster was somehow his fault. 

“How do I stop him? He has followers, just like you.”

“Why should I help you? What are you offering?”

“What do you want?”

“I want us back.” Ryan wasn't expecting that, or perhaps he was he just didn't know it.

“Us? What us?” Ryan was confused, horrified, but another part of him was thrilled and understood completely, because he felt the same and hated himself for it.

“You and me. Bantering. Laughing. Shedding a few tears.” Joe smiled at the memories, even as Ryan's heart ached. “I'd like for you to come visit me, every day that I am here.” Ryan looked appalled. “I think I deserve that much, at least.” Joe sounded so confident, it made Ryan feel shy and awkward. He was conflicted over seeing Joe, over the idea of seeing him again.

“You give me something to get Tyson. If it pays off, I'll come back.” Ryan could barely keep eye-contact with Joe when he stated his terms. 

“Oh, you'll 'get' your man, just like you 'got' me. We know you're our downfall. You're the hero and we're the villain. One doesn't exist without the other. I'm surprised he managed to stay away from you for so long. Why did you wait so long to see me, Ryan?” There was a desperation to Joe's question, one that took Ryan off-guard and left him without an answer. 

“I'm only here because I thought you could help. I wanted to use you.”

“You wanted to see me.” Joe smiled, and Ryan felt his stomach lurch.

“No.” Ryan almost choked on the word, calling for the guard to let him out, suddenly feeling trapped.

“Tell me something, Ryan.” Joe smirked, his confidence bolstered. “Your dreams. Am I in them?” Ryan ran away as soon as the guard unlocked the door. Joe had his answer, and it gave him hope.

***

“Did you miss me?” Tyson asked, having kidnapped Ryan. He undid the gag, so Ryan could answer, but left the binds in place.

“Yes.” Ryan admitted, his voice hoarse. “Why?” Ryan didn't elaborate on the question, but Tyson knew Ryan well enough to know what he meant, even without any words at all. Ryan could no longer say that he knew Tyson that well though. 

“If I said I did it to get your attention, would you believe me?”

“No.” Tyson laughed at Ryan's response, and Ryan couldn't tell why.

“You're right. This has nothing to do with you. I did it because someone had to take charge. Joe had a lot of fans, he had a lot of followers, but he never really did anything with them. I built an empire, and I know you can see that.”

“I don't see how you can go from arresting the criminals, to becoming the biggest one there is.” Ryan claimed, but he could see it. He always thought he'd be the criminal. He thought Tyson was better than him. He knew Tyson was better than him.

“You could join me.” Ryan thought about the offer, seriously tempted.

“No. I can't.”

“You're going to try and stop me.” Tyson sighed, pulling his gun from the small of his back. 

“Yeah. Unless you stop me first.” Ryan kept his eyes open, waiting for a gunshot. Instead, he got the butt of the gun smashed into his head.

Tyson was gone by the time Ryan regained consciousness.

***

“We can flush him out, Nick.” Ryan proposed to his boss. “We can end this. You just have to trust me.” The one-eyed glare Ryan received showed just how much Nick Donovan didn't trust him. He still blamed Ryan for that Joe Carroll follower stabbing him through the eye. Ryan still blamed himself.

“You want to fake Joe Carroll's escape so they'll have a power clash?” Donovan clearly wasn't impressed. 

“I want Joe to kill Tyson.” Ryan admitted. 

“And then you'll kill Joe?” Donovan studied Ryan's face for the words he couldn't say. He must have found something intriguing, because he was coming around to the idea. “Or would you run away with him?”

“The only way Joe is getting free is over my dead body.” Ryan promised. 

“You always did have a deathwish, Ryan.” Nick chuckled darkly. “What are you hoping will happen?”

“I don't know.” Ryan changed his mind. It wasn't clear. He could see a hundred scenarios, but they all resulted in death, he just didn't know if anybody would survive, or if he wanted them to. Including himself. “I just know that if we show a predator to another predator, maybe they won't be hurting any innocent lambs.”

“Or you could be letting another predator into the world.”

“Only on a leash.” Ryan swallowed hard at that image. Joe would probably like that too. For the man who refused to be controlled, he always seemed to submit to Ryan. 

“You have no idea what you're doing, but you're asking me to let you do it anyway?” Nick questioned.

“Yes.”

“Fine. I'll propose the plan.”

***

“We've got the go ahead for the plan, but Carroll says he's not going to cooperate.” Nick announced, in front of a small team of trusted FBI Agents.

“What would it take for Carroll to behave? Does he want a deal? To be taken off death row?” Gina Mendez asked, still cautious. He orchestrated the death of her predecessor. So many deaths could be linked back to him, or Ryan. It was hard to tell which.

“He wants Ryan to ask him.” Nick had perfected the one-eyed eye-roll so much, you could hear it in the tone of his voice.

“He wants to get inside Ryan's head.” Gina was scared. She was scared for Ryan, and for herself. 

“He's already there.” Ryan wryly smiled. “I have to stay close to him, to keep him at bay, but you don't. You have a family, Gina. You have a wife. You have children.” Gina walked away, choosing life. Ryan didn't have that option.

“People are going to stampede if they think Joe Carroll is out.” Nick complained.

“Let them stampede. Authenticity. And let them believe I helped Joe escape.”

“Authenticity?”

*** 

Ryan wasn't sure how he could ask Joe for anything, but he turned up anyway.

“Ryan.” Joe smiled, sounding perfectly content. “You kept your promise.” Joe continued to gaze at Ryan, whilst Ryan struggled to find the right words. 

“You know why I'm here.”

“Because you need me.”

“... yes.” Joe's smile widened at that admission, warmth in his brown eyes. Ryan still looked ashamed. Joe was eagerly looking forward to the bloodbath, with no shame. 

“You're going to help me escape?”

“I'm going to stop Tyson.” Ryan was careful not to say how, he didn't want to think about that. 

“And you need me.”

“Yes.” 

***

Ryan hadn't thought this through, and more innocent lives were lost. During Joe Carroll's transport, shots were fired and the vehicle was overturned. Ryan hit his head badly, the bleeding was profuse and he had a mild concussion, but at least he was still alive. Everybody else was dead, apart from him and Joe.

Ryan still couldn't believe that Tyson would organize something like this. The friend who had spent so long trying to convince him he didn't have a death curse was now doing everything he could to fulfill it. 

“He won't kill us here.” Joe assured Ryan, who was still in shock. “What he wants to do requires something a little more private.” 

“What are you doing?” Ryan knew, but he was powerless to stop it. All he could do was watch as Joe shot a cop with a dead guard's gun, stealing the car.

“You know, Ryan. You worry too much. You'd be much more comfortable if you relaxed with yourself.” For a brief moment, Ryan thought Joe was going to ride off into the sunset, without him. However, Joe pulled up beside him and opened the passenger door. “Going my way?”

Ryan got in the vehicle, and let himself be driven away, leaving the dead bodies behind.

***

“A lighthouse?” Ryan asked, suddenly aware of his surroundings. The concussion was fading, as was the shock. Joe was peering over the edge of a cliff. Ryan was struck with the urge to push him over, but then he'd have to face Tyson alone, and he knew he wasn't strong enough for that. Emotionally, physically, or mentally.

“It seemed fitting.” Joe inhaled the sea air, feeling more alive than he had in a long time. It wasn't just the location, but the fact that he was here with Ryan Hardy. “The bluff is eroding. There was more land when I was here with Emma. More land still when I was here with Claire.”

“And now you're here with me.” Ryan still wasn't sure if he was repulsed or honored. 

“And the bluff is still eroding. Soon, all of this will be lost to the sea.” 

***

Inside the cabin, by the lighthouse, Joe and Ryan took refuge, waiting for the inevitable. Ryan was anxious, but Joe seemed relax. Perhaps it was because he was comfortable in his own skin. Ryan almost envied that, but it was the skin of a killer. 

“You could kill me, and escape.” Ryan distantly noted, as Joe handed Ryan a glass of scotch. The same scotch they drank all those years ago, back when they were bonding over Joe's murders, before Ryan realized Joe was the murderer.

“Oh Ryan.” Joe exaggerated his disappointment. “I thought you knew me better than that. No. I could never kill you, Ryan. You die, I die. And vice versa. You couldn't survive without me, and you know it. If you intend to watch Tyson kill me, you'll be watching him kill you.”

“Maybe I'm okay with that.”

“”No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend.”” Joe quoted, but Ryan shook his head. He didn't feel full of love, only pain, and maybe that was the same thing. It never occurred to him that Joe was talking about himself, but they were so intertwined, Joe feared that Ryan wouldn't survive the separation. He knew he wouldn't.

“He's watching us now.” Ryan reminded himself, needing to break the intimacy before he did something stupid.

“I know.” A bullet passed through the scotch bottle in Joe's hand, causing it to shatter. He only looked mildly inconvenienced when the bullet embedded in his chest. Ryan sipped from his glass, vaguely admiring the beauty of the broken glass and the blood.

*** 

Tyson walked into the room, armed to the teeth. Ryan barely recognized him, all he saw were the weapons and not the man behind them. Tyson headed straight for Joe.

“I never saw what you saw in him, Ryan.” Tyson crouched down, to look Joe in the eyes. He had his back to Ryan. Ryan could easily take one of Tyson's guns and shoot him, but he didn't. Ryan didn't want anything more to do with death, but through action or inaction, it was bound to come anyway. “He had an empire and he ran it into the dirt, threw it all away just to let you be the hero.”

“He didn't do it for me.” Ryan insisted, and Joe let out a pained whimper. It hurt more for Joe to hear that than it did getting shot.

“It was all for you, Ryan. My blood-soaked angel. Too much of a killer to ever be happy as the good guy. Too much of the good guy to ever be happy as the killer.”

“I don't get a happy ending.” Ryan was sure of that.

“Why not?” Joe asked, as if he wasn't bleeding out. “Even serial killers have friends. All I ever wanted was to be your friend, Ryan.” That's what Tyson wanted too, until Ryan shut him out. “For you to forgive yourself for who you are, and see the beauty in it instead. You are capable of great things, Ryan. Stop denying that. Ryan.”

Ryan was spluttering, denying the fact that he was denying anything. He didn't recognize the man Joe described, even the name that Joe seemed so fond of saying felt foreign to him. He knew what Joe was saying, he was telling him to kill Tyson, but Ryan couldn't. 

“I'm not a killer.” Ryan mumbled into his scotch, only taking a sip before putting it aside. He didn't deserve to feel numb for this. 

“Anybody can become a killer.” Tyson was proof of that, and as he pulled out a knife, ready to stab Carroll, Ryan kicked him in the side, making him fall over. He'd chosen to protect Joe, without thinking. 

Tyson was pissed. A part of him always thought it would be him and Ryan, defeating Joe Carroll together. Ryan was his partner, and it hurt when he had pushed him away. That pain now turned to anger, and Tyson threw Ryan through a glass window, taking the fight outside.

But Ryan didn't want to fight. Even as Tyson stuck a knife into Ryan's thigh, narrowly missing his femoral artery, Ryan took the pain like a penance. Ryan didn't believe his life was worth saving, but Joe knew it was. He'd crawled outside to watch the fight. He couldn't let Ryan die, that would be the death of him, so he attacked Tyson with a nearby ax, crippling the man.

“You know what needs to be done, Ryan.” Joe urged him. 

“I can't kill him. He's my friend.” Ryan sobbed, looking at the broken man on the ground who was writhing in pain and hatred.

“I was your best friend, Ryan.” Joe snarled, as the ground shifted under them. “And you still watched me die.” Ryan heard part of the cliff as it slid into the water. Such a load roar, it almost consumed him. 

“I didn't want to. I didn't enjoy it.” 

“You denied us both. I was meant to die by your hand, Ryan.” Joe's words were drowned out by the ocean, and Ryan didn't want to hear them. He vaguely wondered if this is why he couldn't remember his name, if Joe took it with him to the grave, but his mind wouldn't let him think about that for too long. “You would have enjoyed that. And you will enjoy this. Tell me, what are you so afraid of?”

“That you're right.” Ryan tearfully admitted.

“Of course I am.” Joe was also almost close to tears, so full of pride and admiration. He pulled out the knife that was still in Ryan's leg, almost coming undone at the hiss of pain from Ryan's lips, the blood that poured over Joe's hand. He placed the blood-soaked knife in Ryan's hand. 

Ryan was a bundle of contradiction when he killed. He thrust the knife into Tyson's heart, twisting it before pulling out. He held the dying man in his arms as he bled out, comforting him, crying for him, mourning for the friend he had just killed. It wasn't his place to forgive Tyson, but Tyson died hearing that Ryan loved him, and that truth set them both free.

“You're right.” Ryan turned to Joe, wincing as he stood. They were both badly injured, but they were both still breathing. “There is something beautiful in all of this. There has to be.”

“This is all I ever wanted for you.” Joe sighed, content as he wrapped his arms around Ryan, supporting him, holding him close. “For us.”

“Thank you.” Ryan said, resting his head on Joe's bloody chest. They both clung to one another, in a perfect moment, before Ryan sent them both over the edge. 

As they fell, Joe showed no signs of betrayal. He wasn't holding onto Ryan out of fear, but simply the desire to be as close as possible. They were so close, they began to blur and become one.

The gashes on Ryan's back gained from being thrown through the glass window began to open, and bloody feathers and bone sprouted from the wounds. The wings spanned six foot, but were badly misshapen and the raven feathers were patchy. They slowed the fall, but weren't strong enough to support two men. 

Ryan might have been able to save himself if he could just let go of Joe, but the two men clung to one another, Ryan's raven wings outstretched for the first time. 

***

Ryan always woke in a cold sweat, but he could never quite recall the dream that caused it. All he knew is that he still felt like he was falling.


End file.
